Worthy of Trust
by Jeva
Summary: [follows some of the Of Hidden Truths story-line] A look into the mind of one Sirius Black during several pivotal moments in his life after the events of a Halloween night that had changed his fate...
1. November 1, 1981

_Summary:_ [short story] November 1, 1981. Lily and James Potter are dead, and the one who had betrayed them is on the run from the one who had only wanted to help them.  
  
_Author's Notes:_ Meh. I know I haven't updated Of Hidden Truths in over four months, but the thing is that I've been feeling uninspired of the late and I wrote this hoping it would get me back on track. ^.^" Well, it certainly put some things into perspective for me! ^.^" Hope you all enjoy! ^.~!  
  
_Disclaimer:_ Don't own HP. -.-' If I would the ending of Ootp would be SO different. Believe me *winks* All characters belong to JK Rowling because she is the mastermind who created them. Duh.  


* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
_"Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?"_  
  
His vision went red as unrestrained rage overcame his senses. He hardly noticed where they were; all he knew was Peter Pettigrew and the events of that night. Events that could have been prevented...  
  
He growled lowly, shoving the thoughts away. He had the traitor within his grasp and--oh, he would have the pleasure of killing the rat. They had trusted the rat! It was supposed to have been a bluff! No one was supposed to have known about the switch!  
  
And now, only he and the rat were left.  
  
He pulled out his wand without thinking; the rage boiling within him was destroying his judgement. He didn't care, he realized distantly. He wanted the rage to overwhelm him, to take away the pain and grief that he had since digging through the wreakage of Godric Hollow and pulling out the bodies of the two friends he had tried to protect. The rage muted those emotions and all he wanted to do was kill the man who had killed them...  
  
Lily.  
  
James.  
  
Before he could utter a sound, he was caught at the edge of a blast which knocked him off of his feet. There must have been screaming, but he couldn't hear a sound. The force of the explosion was like that of a Muggle bomb, and he could feel blood dripping from his nose and ears.  
  
He sat there dumbly as everything settled, mentally reassuring himself that he would be able to hear again later. There was something that then caught his eye, and horror crept up his spine.  
  
Bodies. Muggles. At least a dozen of them lay there in the street.  
  
No Pettigrew.  
  
Slowly, he climbed to his feet and walked to the center of the damage; his wand was gone from his hand and probably destroyed. It was then that he spotted them. Black, bloody robes at the focuse point of the blast. No wand lay with the rags.  
  
It hit him with as much force as the explosion had.  
  
Peter had gotten away. Wormtail had run from the scene of the crime, leaving him as the man left standing.  
  
Muttering sounds caught his ears, and he looked around to see hundreds of Muggles watching him, terrified. They were staring at the bodies, at the man who now stood amongst them. They all watched as he looked to the robes again, fury etched into his youthful visage.  
  
He felt like screaming and cursing the coward's name. He wanted to kill the rat who had killed his friends--but that was what it now looked like, wasn't it? To those who survived to witness it all, it appreared that Wormtail had been the one running from a madman who had already killed two others. It seemed to them that it was he who had caused this atrocity...  
  
Numbness--God, he felt so numb--slowly crawled its way into him. Hadn't he been Lily and James' killer after all? He, who had been the one who came up with the switch, was to blame. Had the rat been right in placing these Muggles' deaths on him?  
  
He stared at the rags for a long while before he heard the sound of several people Apparating behind him. Then it dawned on him...  
  
His lips curled into a cruel smile before his body started to shake. The people watching him froze as the sound of him chuckling reached them. After all, what could be funny about this grisly scene?  
  
They, however, didn't know the real killer, and the wizard standing in the center of the debris continued to laugh at the irony of it all. His laughter rang out louder and louder each second as he continued to realize his situation. Tears blurred his vision as they fell down his cheeks in twin rivers.  
  
Wormtail had out-smarted him! Bullied, pathetic Peter Pettigrew had caught him and had been the one--_the only one_--to frame him of a crime he hadn't committed! Furthermore, Remus hadn't been the spy for Voldemort, and he had tricked himself into thinking the werewolf would dare betray his friends! For two years, he had never realized who had been the rat, even when the answer was there in front of him every full moon!  
  
He staggered slightly, pressing his arms to his sides as they began to ache from the laughter.  
  
Lily and James were dead, and he had almost gotten the one who had killed them. Now he was the one blamed for their deaths. Just as well, then! He had been the one with the plan that killed them!  
  
Through his laughter, he felt several wands press against him. Someone spoke, their voice ice-cold, but he didn't hear them. He was guilty no matter what he said, anyway. A Black was never innocent, after all! Voldemort was gone as well, and hadn't he quit the Aurors just recently? No one would believe him to be innocent!  
  
After a moment more, he sobered--though it didn't last long. This time when he laughed, he was actually amused.  
  
Hagrid had his motorbike!  
  
  
  
  


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_Author's Notes:_ O.o...okay, even with how I ended it, this is like one of the darkest things I've written really. *shudders* I'm not much for writing seriously angsty things--or am I? O.o? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this part. There should be one more section up shortly. ^.~! Ja! 


	2. Azkaban, 1981

_Summary:_ [short story] Azkaban. Hell on earth for those who are there. The thoughts of one prisoner as he is forced to remember memories.  
  
_Author's Notes:_ Whoo! Go me! ^.^" I rock! Yeah, I probably don't, but I feel like I'm on a roll with this little ficlet. ^.^" I've decided to turn this into a fic of short stories all told from Sirius' POV. It really does help with my thinking process and I think I'll be able to write some of Of Hidden Truths soon (after I work on my English 3 assignment that I've been putting off--7 page report -.-') Hope you all enjoy! ^.~!  
  
_Disclaimer:_ Don't own HP. -.-' If I would the ending of Ootp would be SO different. Believe me *winks* All characters belong to JK Rowling because she is the mastermind who created them. Duh.  


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_"He remind me of one of my mum's house elves..."_  
  
_"LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS! HOW COULD YOU?"_  
  
He shivered and pressed against the corner, attempting to get away from the voices and the cold. He could hear people screaming all around him--or muttering insanely, talking to the Dark Lord or Santa Clause.  
  
He snorted at the thought. He'd only been in his cell for little more than a day. He couldn't tell exactly how long because it seemed like Azkaban was a place where nightmares were constant, and nightmares only came during the night.  
  
_Their bodies lay side by side, having been pulled out of the rubble by their loyal friend. James--_  
  
He brought his hands to his head and clutched the roots of his hair, his eyes squeezing shut. No. Not those memories. He couldn't relive those memories...  
  
_"Well...if you _don't_ want to be best man..."_  
  
God...James was gone...his best friend for years, the only one person that understood him at all. His friend--brother was _dead_.  
  
_"Cheerful and anticipating, Sirius...seeing you trip in your robes."_  
  
Lily...a sister to him, really. Having wanting to stop James from hurting her. It hadn't been that way always. He could remember a tme when she annoyed him too much, but James had always had his eye on her...  
  
Tears pricked his eyes as he sat in his cell. He already felt like he was going to lose his mind. Memories of his friends, and their lives at Hogwarts and beyond relentlessly became front and center because of the Dementors. How he hated those creatures...  
  
_"Pah-foo'! Pah-foo'!"_  
  
He froze as the innocent voice floated from his memory. Harry...in the shock of everything that had happened, he'd pushed thoughts of his best friend's son out of his mind. Hagrid had gotten him on Dumbledore's orders. He hadn't even had a chance to wipe the blood from the babe's forehead when the half-giant arrived.  
  
_"Yeh have ta give him ta meh, Sirius. Dumbledore's orders."  
  
"It's all right, Harry. I'll be back, I promise. Take my motobike, Hagrid. I won't be needing it."_  
  
He'd promise Harry he'd return. How was he to know Peter would have gotten away, framing him? He was Harry's godfather, damn it! The least he could have done was tell Lily's friend, the younger Arabella, even if the damnable witch had run off!  
  
_"Look what Padfoot got you, son! It's a--what is it?"  
  
"It's a game. Made it myself!"  
  
"...right."_  
  
Laughter at the memory was so tempting, but grief made it more heart-wrenching than anything. Damn it all if this was fair! Here he was, trapped in a place better known as Hell while the actual guilty man was running free--maybe as a rat, but who really cares? He was innocent and yet still trapped!  
  
The injustice of it all could probably keep over thirty Dementors happy for ages.  
  
_"This is hardly dignified, Sirius."  
  
"Quiet, Moony. I'm practicing Zen cursing..."_  
  
It explained why he wasn't already barking mad, he thought sourly. Dementors could only be a real effective form of torment if the person had any hope and happiness that could be torn away and then destroyed. There wasn't any of that for him. His friends were dead, another was their betrayer, the last believed _he_ was the traitor, and he couldn't think about Harry because of what happened to his parents and the thought of where he might be--probably with those detestable relatives of Lily's, his only living relatives.  
  
God, if only he'd listened to what James had been _saying_!  
  
_"You know I trust you with my life, Sirius, and I don't want to put any more of a burden on you, but...I feel as though I can trust you with Lily and Harry's as well..."_  
  
It had been the perfect bluff! How could it have gone wrong? When did Peter become a Death Eater, of all things?  
  
_"Not like he ever tells us where he's going. We have to overhear conversations now..."_  
  
Remus...how could he have ever _doubted_ Remus? Hadn't he become an illegal Animagus to help him? Hadn't it been his idea? Why, then, did he immediately jump to the conclusion that he was the spy? He trusted Remus! Had lived with him for years!  
  
_"No! What I'm saying is that you're basing this on circumstantial evidence!"_  
  
James had known Remus would have never turned against them. He had been right; it had been circumstantial. Just like how they had thrown him in Azkaban without a second thought because he was a Black. One of the last of one of the darkest lines of wizards.  
  
He sighed, shuddering non-stop with the cold caused by the Dementors. They weren't very close now, so he figured someone was coming his way, and indeed, someone was. Two Aurors came by his cell with a witch between them. She was about to leave view of the cell when she turned her head slightly in his direction, a wicked smile on her face as she recognized him.  
  
Bellatrix. Finally caught. Hopefully with her husband as well. One less Black for them to worry about, he thought icily as he caught her eye.  
  
It's all over, the look said. Your friends may have died, but the Dark Lord is forever immortal!  
  
He sneered at her, wanting to tell her that she would rot in Hell, but then she was gone, and he was alone with his memories.  
  
_"We'll stick together through thick and thin, right?"_  
  
  
  
  


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_Author's Notes:_ Well, that's the end of the second short story. Might not have seem realistic with the Dementors, but this is still pretty early in Sirius' stay in Azkaban and with Voldemort having been destroyed, the Dementors are frenzying on Death Eaters and whatnot. Or at least, that's my reasoning. Anyway, the next one will be out soon!  
  
Oh, and if you recognize some of the quotes but not all of them, that's because those are parts I don't have out yet and whatnot. That's right, people, this is following my Of Hidden Truths storyline, but no worries, it won't have any of the real juicy stuff that's in the actual story ^.^" 


	3. Azkaban, 1993

_Summary:_ Azkaban. A place known to some as Hell. A prisoner has a visit from the Ministry of Magic himself and sees something that makes him determined to escape Hell itself.  
  
_Author's Notes:_ You know, I feel really bad about not updating Of Hidden Truths, but seriously, I just need some more time before I update again. Sorry to all my readers if they're reading this! I'll be working on Chapter Fifteen but it may be a while yet before I finally get it out. Again, my apologies!  
  
_Disclaimer:_ Own nothing. Don't sue. ^.^"  
  


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_"Yeah...you're just a devious little tyke, aren't ya? Aren't ya!"  
  
"Pah-foo'!"  
  
"Stop tormenting my son before I get a leash on you, _Padfoot_."  
  
"Aw...come on, Lily. He likes it when I torment him. Don't ya? Don't ya!"  
  
"Pah-foo'!"_  
  
He was innocent...  
  
_"Dumbledore's orders."  
  
"It's all right, Harry..."_  
  
He was innocent.  
  
_"LILY AND JAMES, SIRIUS!"  
  
Their bodies lay side by side, having been pulled out of the rubble by their loyal friend. James looked to have been beaten before finally being granted the mercy of death--  
  
"HOW COULD YOU?"_  
  
He was innocent!  
  
_"Just be careful, Padfoot..."  
  
--which seemed to have been what his friend had been waiting for, judging by his closed eyes and the blank expression on his face. Lily, however, had a less peaceful look. Her eyes were still open, brilliant green--_  
  
HE WAS INNOCENT!  
  
_"Great. Now there's two pairs of eyes I won't be able to say no to..."  
  
--staring at nothing, an almost pained expression. The sight brought tears to his eyes just as he heard a baby's wailing.  
  
Harry..._  
  
"I'm _innocent_!" he shouted as he jerked awake. For a long moment, he forgot where he was, his thoughts muddled from the Dementors. When he could think a little more clearly, he realized that the Dementors were backing off a bit.  
  
Either it was food or a new prisoner. The thought of food made his stomach lurch.  
  
It turned out to be neither. The Minister was coming by.  
  
He stood, a bit shaky but still entirely capable of doing so without needing to lean against the wall for support. He blinked at the man he could see standing outside of his cell, looking in. Well, he thought dryly, if it wasn't Pudgy Fudgy.  
  
Minister Fudge stared at the supposed murderer of thirteen people as well as the Potters, a newspaper clenched in his hand. He must have been afraid of how...sane he appeared to be. Most passing Aurors were.  
  
He grinned toothily at the Minister before gesturing to his cell and saying with a gutteral sound to his voice, "Welcome to my humble abode."  
  
The Minister started at that before nodding to an Auror who slid in some food, which he stared at moodily. It appeared that you only obtained 'priviledges' when there was a visitor.  
  
He, however, was now staring at the newspaper in Fudge's hands. "You mind?" he asked, pointing to the newspaper. "I've missed doing the crosswords and it gets dull in here after a while."  
  
Lying through his teeth, but nothing says 'fear me' better than nonchalance.  
  
Again the Minister started, surprised by his lucidness. "Of-of course," said Fudge before handing the newspaper to the Auror, who slid it beside the food.  
  
He had learned long ago that Aurors didn't like prisoners near the bars, but also long ago, the Aurors learned that he didn't care. So he walked up and snatched the newspaper, opening it to see a picture of a group of wizards and two witches--a family--Weasleys standing in front of pyramids.  
  
"I've heard you were shouting about innocence, Black." The bluntness made him look up to the Minister coolly before he looked back to the picture with a frown.  
  
"Quoting a friend of mine," he muttered as his eye caught something.  
  
A rat. A very familiar rat with a missing front toe sat on a boy's shoulder. He quickly studied the boy. He was young--Hogwarts age--  
  
He froze and looked quickly at the date, his heat racing. July, 1993. Oh, Merlin...Harry was at Hogwarts--Gryffindor most likely, and Weasleys were always Gryffindors--  
  
The rat was at _Hogwarts_!  
  
"...become like the others," he heard Fudge mutter to the Auror, who looked dubious.  
  
He mentally scowled at them. He certainly wasn't a Muggle zoo animal! His mind, however, went back to Hogwarts. He had to get there. Get there, grab the rat, and prove his innocence--probably getting custody of Harry as well...  
  
Padfoot sure had his usefulness.  
  
"...be late for a meeting," the Minister muttered as the Auror nodded, turning to lead him away.  
  
"Thanks for the paper!" he called to them, grinning at Fudge, who had started for the third time.  
  
When they left, he started to feel the effect of the Dementors but pushed it away as he focused on the picture again. He had to sit after a moment as he slowly felt several Dementors coming over, feeding off of his anger and spite. He hardly cared; he'd grown used to the voices of memories--the images, however...  
  
He shivered but continued to stare at the picture. Padfoot would get him out of here. Padfoot wasn't as affected by Dementors as he was, as he had first learned years before. In order to make the escape work, he needed a distraction...  
  
_He lifted the wailing child from the rubble, staring bewildedly at him before looking back to his parents and swallowing hard. He closed his eyes as he brought Harry closer to him, murmuring words in his ear before he felt the boy pull his hair.  
  
He looked down to see a jagged cut on the babe's forehead, barely covered by his small tuft of wild raven locks--_  
  
He woke with a start, realizing he'd passed out at some point. Surprisingly, things were quiet in Azkaban...  
  
Then he knew why.  
  
A scream pierced the air. A dying prisoner had the Dementors' attention. Distraction, he thought grimly before turning into Padfoot and squeezing through the bars.  
  
  
  
  


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_ Author's Notes:_ Well, that's it for that one. Hope you all enjoyed! ^.~!  
  



	4. Magnolia Crescent

_Summary:_ After the escape from Azkaban, there was an incident that took place in a Muggle neighborhood involving...the Grim?  
  
_Author's Notes:_ Well, I got bored and I knew I needed to post something to let you guys know that I am still alive and that I am working on Of Hidden Truths--little by little. -.-' It is very hard to write a long chapter when you're so uninspired with HP... Anway, let's get on with this part of the fic ^.^"  
  
_Disclaimer:_ Don't own. Don't sue. :p  
  


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He had paused to lick his paw; the journey had not been an easy one, but he would make it. He'd run into a large Muggle area and had yet to come across a wizard. It was luck and wasn't going to last long as he continued his journey. Hogwarts. That was his main objective...  
  
Escaping Azkaban hadn't been easy. Prisoners that had spotted him screamed something dreadful, thinking Padfoot was the Grim. Idiot Death Eaters, the whole lot. Who would be afraid of a big black dog, anyway? One that was skin and bones, no less.  
  
Already, he had been on the Muggle news. He had watched the program from outside of a home, relieved that his Animagus form was still secret...even if it wasn't to Voldemort.  
  
He had stayed near the house since then, recovering his energy and thinking of where he was. He was in Surrey, that much he knew. Perhaps the name of the street he was on was call Magnolia Crescent...  
  
Well, Harry's Muggle aunt and uncle lived in Surrey. No telling where or how close he was to them, though Harry must have watched the news as well. So if he tried to explain anything before he got to the rat, Harry would never believe him.  
  
That night, it was dark and all the houses were just as dark, not allowing any light onto the street. He didn't need light, however, to realize someone had paused near the street.  
  
His ears perked slightly, and he lifted his head to sniff the air. The person's scent...he recognized it...  
  
He stood, favoring his front left paw for a moment as the muscles uncramped. He could see him now, bent over his trunk in search of something. Then, the young man froze before turning to look straight at him.  
  
He froze. Padfoot shouldn't be seen!  
  
The young wizard casted a lighting spell as he blinked, studying the small boy. He looked so much like James that he almost felt like running over, barking up a storm. The green eyes stopped him, however. They watched him warily for only a moment before he took a step back--  
  
He had to wince sympathetically as the boy tumbled over his own trunk, losing his wand. He quickly moved from his spot near the house.  
  
Not yet, he thought firmly to himself as the road filled with light with the sudden arrival of a triple-decker bus. He needed to get Wormtail before he could prove himself to Harry.  
  
"...transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to..."  
  
_"It's all right, Harry. I'll be back, I promise..."_  
  
He couldn't help but watch from his new hiding spot. Harry was almost all grown up. For twelve years, images of him as one-year-old had haunted him. Now he was already thirteen! Was he happy? What kind of things did he do for fun? Was he more like James or Lily?  
  
He wanted to know everything about the boy, but he couldn't stay long...  
  
"...doin' down there?" the young man from the bus asked his godson, who answered, "Fell over."  
  
He snorted at the thought. He certainly had his way with words like James, though he suspected that had more of Lily's intelligence in the use of them. Lily and James...he had tried not to think about them for so long that he only felt numb when he remembered them.  
  
Oh, he could remember what they looked like, what they sounded like, even what they smelled like--no thanks at all to Dementors. He would always, however, first remember their faces as he last saw them. James--beaten, looking as though he had waited for death, had _wanted_ it--and Lily--pained and afraid, probably knowing she wouldn't live, probably knowing her busband was dead as well. Now looking at Harry, who was nervously pushing his bangs down onto his forehead--the opposite of how James had messed with his hair--he could feel the numbness peel slightly away, leaving him with internal agony.  
  
He whined slightly, watching Harry board the bus--whatever posssessed him to leave the neighborhood, he didn't know--before the bus left with a BANG!  
  
It was a sign, he had to believe. He had to get to Hogwarts and get the rat. He had to prove his innocence to Harry, to Remus--what had the werewolf been doing for the past twelve years?--hell, he'd prove his innocence to the Wizarding World at large!  
  
Ambitious thoughts, he knew, but they were what pressed him onward on his journey to Hogwarts. Those thoughts, as well as the promise he had made to Harry twelve years ago, kept him moving and made him more wary of wizards that he would spy. He couldn't afford to run into them and let them discover his true identity.  
  
Especially not when Hogwarts--and the rat--was in reach.  
  
  
  
  


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_Author's Notes:_ Yeah, and so I have finished yet another short story-like thing. You know I honestly do feel wretched for not updating Of Hidden Truths...but I promise that I am working on it (I should really be working on that report for English though...*sweatdrops*). ^.^" So no worries! It should be out! Just be patient! ^.~! 


	5. Hogwarts: Halloween

_Summary:_ A long trek has finally brought the only prisoner to escape Azkaban to Hogwarts' doors. Now that he is there, how is he to get at the traitorous rat?  
  
_Author's Notes:_ Meh...again with the meh. Well, I'm just posting this before I start to work on my research paper (which is due the day after tomorrow, but I have a feeling I can handle it. 5 1/2 pages? Pfft!). Anyway, I'm still trying to get my thoughts back in order (reading some of POA really kind of helped!), but I'll be sure to have something out at the promised date (note that there is an IMPORTANT notice posted in my profile). Until then--enjoy the read! .  
  
_Disclaimer:_ Don't own. Don't sue. :p

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It had taken weeks, and he had almost been spotted several times by people when he'd been just too exhausted to keep up his Animagus form--luckily, he'd managed to hide away whenever they had paused before giving a second glance--but he had made it to Hogwarts. He'd almost been lost in Hogsmeade, as he hadn't know _where_ he was, when he'd spotted a couple of students hiding in an alleyway.  
  
Weasleys, he knew. A pair of twins that appeared to have snuck out of Hogwarts.  
  
They had appeared to be bent over a piece of parchment, discussing plans of a sort. It was always good to know Hogwarts still had some mischief makers in her.  
  
That had been about two days ago.  
  
Each passage he had tried to use to get into the wizarding school seemed to be collapsed or watched by nervous house elves. He felt like hurting whoever had done such a thing as tell where the passages were. He'd also mentally kicked himself for forgetting how the collapsed tunnels had gotten that way. Honestly, did he remember nothing from Fifth Year?  
  
He'd finally managed to find an entrance, though, and he'd headed stright to Gryffindor Tower. No one appeared to be around, so he quickly turned himself human as he slowly approached the Fat Lady's portrait--how long had it been the password protector?  
  
"Password?" she asked distractedly.  
  
He licked his lips and wet his throat before he said, "You have to let me in."  
  
The Fat Lady faced him and froze, staring in horror. He didn't care. He needed to get in. The rat was right inside!  
  
"You!" she cried. "You will not enter this tower without a password--!"  
  
"I'm already in the bloody tower!" He was almost shaking with annoyance. "Let me in the Common Room!"  
  
She cowered in her portrait, remembering his temper from back in his Hogwarts days. "Even if the Potter boy weren't already safe at the feast, you wouldn't get in without a password! Leave now!"  
  
He exploded, _"Let me in, you damnable wench!"_  
  
The Fat Lady's jaw dropped as she furiously shook her head, terrified. He snapped, going crazy at the thought of how close he was to the damn rodent, with only the bloody portrait standing in his way! So, he screamed out an almost-howl of fury as he clawed at the painting.  
  
Among many other incoherent words, he found himself shouting over and over, "LET ME IN! LET ME IN! LET ME IN!"  
  
The Fat Lady screamed in fright and started to run out of the torn portrait.  
  
He stopped as the Fat Lady rushed by in in another painting and roared, "GET BACK HERE!" But she was long gone, and he knew that he couldn't be admitted entrance. Dumbledore would hear who had done such a thing and would be on the lookout for him. He knew this without a doubt, and he hated himself for knowing.  
  
With bleeding knuckles, he pulled at his hair, trying to get a grip on himself. There would be another chance, he assured himself. He'd just have to wait and be patient until his chance came.  
  
For a long while, he stayed in the hall, lost and not knowing what to do. He would have surely been spotted if he hadn't heard the many footsteps coming his way.  
  
The students had finished the feast, he realized before he turned into Padfoot and rushed to the shadows. He couldn't go anywhere else then because the students were slowly filing their way up to the portrait before they stopped and stared, shocked.  
  
"Let me through, please," he heard one student say over the bustling and crowded students. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password--excuse me, I'm Head Boy--"  
  
Through his rage-filled mind, he barely realized that the students fell silent as they saw his handy-work before the boy who had pushed his way to the front said, "Someone get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."  
  
While staring at the crowd of students, he saw a glimse of Harry just before Albus Dumbledore arrived, managing to get through the clump easily. He only glanced at the ruined painting before he looked back down the corridor.  
  
Having had enough, he slowly made his way out of the shadows and down the corridor as three professors rushed over to Dumbledore. Rage continued to boil within him as he cursed the Fat Lady for stopping him. He would have gotten the rat! He would have been free! Now he was condemned to hiding in shadows until the right time!  
  
Damn his luck, he thought as he hid himself in a crook in a wall behind a snoring suit of armor. Oh, he'd wait for his chance, but it would just make things even worse for poor little Wormtail when he would finally get a hold of him.  
  
He couldn't stay in his hiding place long, but he needed to think. In order to think clearly, he had to calm himself. Luckily, he managed to calm himself within minutes, and after those minutes, he was racing for the passage out of Hogwarts. He'd bide his time until the right moment. Of that he was most sure of.

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_Author's Notes:_ Right. That's the end of that! ." I'll see you all whenever I see you! Ja ne! .! 


End file.
